Beginnings
by KrisEleven
Summary: Four very different young mages were brought together at Winding Circle, where they changed the face of magic forever; but first, Niko has to find them.
1. Prologue

Thanks for reading, lioness!

This story is being written for the July challenge for the Tamora Pierce Experiment: Writing Challenges. The challenge this month was to write a canon scene from a different point of view. Since I was on time I, of course, had to go overboard and plan a multi-chapter. Go figure. So this is the beginning of the Circle series from Niko's point of view. I hope you enjoy!

Here's the forum link: forum (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/forum/The_Tamora_Pierce_Experiment_Writing_Challenges/70302/

* * *

"Niko! I didn't know you were back in Emelan!"

Lark opened the door fully to give the tall man a hug. He responded warmly, but quickly. "Is Rosethorn around?" he asked, looking around the small cottage. "Can you get her in here?"

Lark looked the mage over critically. He was skinny, as always, but seemed to be verging on gaunt in a way he hadn't the last time the wayward mage had passed through the temple. His long jacket was wrinkled at the bottom, the shirt underneath had a small circular stain on the collar; only slight musses, but for Niko, always meticulously neat, it caused Lark's concern to rise. He looked stressed and distracted and when men like Niklaran Goldeye looked like that, it usually foretold disaster. She made Niko sit at the table before she fetched Rosethorn from the other woman's workshop.

When Rosethorn came into the room, she took one look at Niko and her eyebrows snapped together.

"Sit, please," Niko said. "I need to talk to both of you." Lark put the tea she had been brewing on the table in front of him. Her hand brushed against his sleeve and she allowed her magic to straighten wrinkles and the stain fell away from the fabric. He gave her a weary smile and she joined Rosethorn on the other bench.

"You still have no charges?" he asked.

Rosethorn shook her head.

"Good, good," Niko said, standing up.

The women exchanged a glance, one concerned and one exasperated. Lark set a light hand on Rosethorn's knee, calming what would have no doubt been a sharp reprimand of wasting time, regardless of her concern for her friend.

"Off already, Niko?" Lark asked, instead.

"I only stopped by as an afterthought," Niko admitted as they walked him to the door. "Duke Vedris has asked me to visit him. There is some issue to do with a plague on Hatar."

"And you needed to know if our house was empty because…?" Rosethorn's patience was put on a touch too thick and Lark sent her a quick warning glance.

"I have the feeling you'll have a guest or two in the next few months," Niko said as he walked down the path. "I'll see you soon!" He was gone before they could ask him anything further, his long strides carrying him out of earshot.

"Well!" Rosethorn said with her mouth twisted in a frown. "Thank Mila we know we'll have an unknown number of guests in an unknown amount of time and that we'll see him _soon_. That is all very helpful information!"

Lark frowned as well as they walked back into Discipline, her thoughts on Niko. She wished she had had a moment to weave spells of protection into his clothes before he left; she suddenly had the feeling that something monumental was going to happen and that he would be at the centre of it all.

Rosethorn suddenly wrapped her arms around Lark, holding her tight.

"He'll be all right, my heart," she said. Lark schooled her face into a smile.

"I know, Rosie. He always is." Still, the feeling remained and she held the other woman tight.


	2. Turaton

A/N Thanks for reading, Sarah!

Hello again! The Ficship Competitions that I am helping to run this summer are in the voting stage, so all the nominated stories have been organized into three polls and you get to decide which ones go onto the next round! Check out the nominated fics (the stories, a summary, and their links can all be found in the Nominations threads) and then vote in the polls for your favourites.

Here's the forum's link: forum (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/forum/The_Ficship_Competitions/54838/

A bit of self-promotion: two of my stories have been nominated this session. If you have read - and enjoyed, of course - _Lioness's Den_ (which is in the Knighthood multichapters poll) and/or _Waiting for the Abyss's Stare _(in the Circle poll), I would love your support! Thanks, everyone! Now, onto the story.

* * *

"Are you sad to see it go, Niklaren Goldeye? You land-men are so oddly attached to your cities, after all."

Niko smiled as he turned away from the rail where he had been contemplating the retreating city of Summersea. The speaker was an old Trader, his white hair still braided and nearly reaching his waist. The man's eyes were milky with age, but he saw more accurately than most people thirty years his junior. Niko had long suspected Ghamen Jutaru of magic, but that was not something you brought up with Traders; they were notoriously jealous of guarding all of the magics they didn't sell for a handsome profit.

"I am never really sad to see a place go, Ghamen," Niko replied in Trader-talk. "It just means another place to be explored, once the old one is out of sight."

"Ah, yes. Your _turaton _ways. You do know how that legend ends, yes?"

"I believe the _turaton_ ends up finding what he seeks. Not such a bad way to end."

Ghamen laughed, showing a mouth filled with empty spaces and a few darkened teeth. "Yes, land-man. He sought the most beautiful places in the world. I suppose the inside of a volcano does count towards that goal. You seem in need of the lesson. The island is no place to be travelling in these times, Niklaren Goldeye. Even our captain is avoiding it, and you know she would not give up the profit Hatar furs and craftsmanship would bring our ship for most trivial dangers."

Niko sighed. "I know, Ghamen. I would avoid it too, if I could. I have no desire to wander into a plague city." He smiled. "Again."

Ghamen shook his head. "_Turaton_! Your wander-lust will get you in trouble one day, Niklaren. Well, not my place to lecture you with our stories. We will drop you off on Dupon. The captain cannot risk the ship or crew to plague."

"I understand, Ghamen," Niko said. "Thank the captain for me."

Ghamen smiled another toothy grin – he claimed he was too old to captain a vessel, but ran his ship better than any other in the Pebbled Sea, with his Captain niece looking on in bemusement – and then walked slowly along the deck, catching mistaken knots and a slacking great-grandson with that milky gaze.

The city was small now; Niko was always surprised by how quickly the land melted into the horizon, when he took to the sea. Leaning forward to rest his arms on the rail, he gazed sightlessly into the distance as the Trader ship took him south, towards Hatar – and Zakdin.

* * *

Niko was tired of mud. The autumn rains were more than oppressive – they were downright depressing – and the mud he was forced to endure because of them made it all even less pleasant. He stared straight ahead in an attempt to ignore the mud that soaked his shoes and speckled its way up his pant legs.

Niko sighed as he maneuvered his horse – a borrowed dapple mare – around a particularly nasty looking puddle. He hadn't received any visions about the plague until he was already on the ship towards the islands, yet another flaw in his visions proven. Regardless, the Duke _had_ received news on the plague reaping across the city where his nephew and his family had last been visiting. Unable to find anyone to send – and unwilling to send anyone who could not do the job correctly, regardless – the Duke had called upon an old friend and favours.

_Not that he would think so_, Niko admitted. Duke Vedris had been adamant that Niko could decline this request, that it had nothing to do with the many debts he owed the Duke, but Niko couldn't separate them, even if the Duke insisted. Niko, instead, had told the Duke he would be traveling south for the winter anyway – not exactly a lie, since Hajra and the Pebbled Sea were both south of Summersea – though he had surely not meant to travel through the centre of a plague by his own volition. If not for Duke Vedris's plea, he would have avoided the island as readily as the Trader vessels, and been glad for it. Few things upset him more than the filth surrounding disease.

Surely, though, he would find the Duke's nephew and his family in short order, pass along news to the Duke and continue on his personal voyage. They were members of the nobility, after all, and would have been granted rooms in a country estate if the Palace of the Black Swans in the capital had become too dangerous. With the ability to move fast and far, hire expensive healers and get access to clean water and food, the nobility could avoid the worst of most any plague.

Niko blinked away the visions that had been flickering at the edge of his sight for the past week. He would believe in the worst when he actually saw it; he knew well the limits of his sight. Spurning his horse onwards, a drop of mud landed on his gloved hand and Niko tried his best to ignore it. There was hope, yet. Perhaps the Count Mattin fer Toren and his family had left the palace, after all.

Niko told himself these things throughout his trip across Dupon. He passed through several small villages, and managed to purchase sleeping space on each of the two nights he spent travelling; even though he had travelled extensively, Niko had never gotten over his aversion to sleeping rough.

In each of the places he stopped, he heard more rumours about the plague. He worried that villages this small had heard news of it; if people were passing through while fleeing the disease he may already be encountering those infected. Adjusting his sight to detect smallpox gave him a headache, but not doing so may prove to have more distressing consequences.

It took him two days' riding to cross Dupon, and another day on reaching the coast that looked out onto the larger island of Hatar to find a vessel willing to carry him towards the plague.

A fishing vessel had to be hired to make the crossing; none of the ferries would run it until the fear of sickness had subsided. Niko wondered how the island was getting food, medicines, water, and other necessities through what appeared to be an effective quarantine of the island. Watching the shoreline of Hatar draw closer under steel-grey skies that promised another downpour, Niko worried that the fears surrounding infection had made the entire situation worse.

He always regretted when his worst worries proved correct.


	3. Chaos

Thank you for beta'ing, Sarah! Don't forget to vote on Ficship (only a few more weeks!)

* * *

This far south, even in late autumn, the weather was hot. The broad-leaved ferns that covered the roadsides and the thicket of leaves overhead dripped with moisture they drew from the air. The island was heavily, and lushly, forested. A side-effect, no doubt, of the torrential rains Niko had so far managed to avoid, though he could hardly bring himself to describe them as a positive feature: the heavy vegetation and the constant chatter of animals unnerved him more on Hatar than it had on its similar neighbour, Dupon. The difference was all in his head, he knew. It had to do with contrasts and distraction, but the fact that he had seen no signs of human life since he had crossed the strait wasn't actually something he wanted to think about.

The visions were increasing as well, and the anxiety Niko had been tempering was beginning to build. The city he had visited once – he had been invited to a series of plays by the King Soekarnu in the island's Amphitheatre of Heroes – was dead silent in his visions, except for random fires, except for the bodies in the street, except for the feral gangs breaking shop windows and dragging loot out of buildings whose owners were dead or dying or who had fled.

It was not a good sign, that chaos had such a hold over the city. There was always a certain amount of lawlessness when disease overtook a city, but when it was like this, when there was no one left to enforce the law...

The capital, Zakdin, was located far from the coast of the strait separating the island from its nearest neighbours – the same strait Niko had crossed earlier in the day. Distracted by the calls of the tropical birds and hidden animals, the humidity, and the visions of coming disaster, Niko didn't notice that the city had actually come into view until he was already around the bend in the road, looking across the lush valley before him. He would have preferred to ride into one of the island's many volcanoes that rose into the sky of the distance.

It was getting dark, and the heat was fading though the humidity remained oppressive, sticking to him like a wet blanket over his face. Niko did not have to concentrate on his visions to know that riding into the city in the dark would be useless and dangerous, even for him. He was beginning to understand that his magic would be needed in the coming weeks, if he was to find any trace of the count and his family.

* * *

Surhato and his cousins were dressed in the common style of the island: long knee-length tunics and thin leggings. They were short men, especially standing next to Niko, but they were built with heavy muscles around the neck, shoulders and arms. Their skin was darkened by the sun, their dark eyes slightly tilted like those of the people of Yanjing. Three of the men wore scarves dipped in herbs or vinegar tied around their mouths, but Surhato himself had scowled at them as they approached and shrugged at Niko as if in apology. Niko himself wondered if the vinegar-soaked scarves would, perhaps, not be a blessing, if just for the smell. He had been in smallpox cities before.

He had left the main road after sighting the city the night before, and travelled down a small road that lead between rows of water-drenched farmland until he found a small dwelling with fires burning. It had taken longer than he wished, and approaching the family at night, as a stranger in these times was difficult, but Surhato was convinced by his gold and his magic to give him room for the night, and then an escort of family down to the palace in the morning. His wife, Andida, had wrung her hands and glared at Niko with coal-dark eyes from under her red silk veil as her husband agreed to go into the city the next morning.

Now, the next morning, she came down from the house holding packs of food she had prepared and handed it to Niko while the men organized themselves and bid their families good-bye.

Catching his sleeve after he had taken the pack, with thanks, she said in Hataran, "_Ahli _Niklaren, please don't let my husband get sick. He can be so reckless. We need the money; that's why he is doing this: but if I lose him…"

"I will watch over him, Mistress," Niko replied in the same language. He didn't promise that he wouldn't let the man get sick, though, and Andida's eyes as she stepped back told him that she had noticed the omission.

The men understood when Niko said that he did not want to take the main road, and after a quick familial argument about the best route, the four men set out together. Niko resisted looking back to see if Andida was still standing barefoot on the wet ground, watching her husband walk away.

The men had no horses, so Niko had packed his mare with the supplies they had brought with them, and walked alongside the others. After some conversation starting out, they quickly quieted, walking single-file down a narrow path that cut alongside small wooden houses, built on stilts to avoid the heavy winter rains and flooding. Niko swatted at mosquitoes and fretted and grumbled about the mud before he realized that the Hataran men were stifling chuckles, after which he proceeded to complain silently.

"_Ahli _Niko?" Surhato had stopped and was calling Niko out of his complaints in a quiet voice. "We're near the city, now. We are about to follow the main road the rest of the way."

The men who had agreed to help Niko find authority in the city were country men, but they were farmers in treacherous landscapes, where panthers were as likely to be concealed by dense foliage as rodents or birds. Machetes hung from their belts, almost hidden in the sashes of their tunics. They had been scanning the forests with dark, tilted eyes warily, but not with fear. They knew the forests and trusted that they would be warned if danger approached. This confidence was not shared in the world surrounding the road, where sickness or gangs of thieves lurked, and they stepped cautiously.

Niko, too, kept a close watch on the sides of the roads, but was lost in thought. He no longer tried to put aside his visions as those of a perhaps nonexistent future, but if Zakdin were truly in such a state of chaos, there would be no help available from a magistrate or city guard to track down one loose noble and his household. The same probably applied to palace officials. Even farmers on Dupon had known that the king had fled the capital to one of his country estates to survive the plague, and the resulting riots caused by fear, desperation, and anger had not been checked in his absence.

He would have to put together a search group himself, and it was not a chore he relished.

Before he could contemplate it further, however, the road was blocked by a group of a dozen men, all holding various weapons. Surhato and his cousins pulled their machetes from their sashes, but Niko moved forward to stop them. The men had served their purpose; he had not hired them to get them killed by the blades or diseases roadway robbers carried. More than three small groups of criminals had moved off the road rather than meet them. Alone, Niko would have had to use magic on every group of them, and he needed to conserve as much magic as possible if he was to find Count Mattin quickly.

Catching the gaze of the leader just as the man was beginning to gloat, Niko let his magic catch each of the attackers in his hypnotic gaze. Surhato, who had stepped forward with him, shivered.

Niko opened a pouch under his jacket and pulled out a chain of opal beads. Running his fingers along the beads, he included all twelve of the men in his spell. The few who were beginning to throw off his quick hypnotizing magic fell still. This would work only so long as he made eye contact, and he needed more permanence. With ease of practice, he reached into another pouch and, without breaking eye contact, pulled out a small wrapped tube of parchment.

Constructed spells used far less power than even spontaneous magic done without the structure or preparation. This one was not one he was particularly proud of, but it would do the trick. A quick burst of magic ignited the parchment and the runes, and released the spell. The attackers, seemingly without provocation, began to swat and smack at the air. One man fell to the ground and began to roll while another ran headlong into the vegetation at the side of the road. The illusion attacking them was that of a swarm of gnats; Niko had tried the same spell with a dark cloud, larger animals, or bees, but none of them kept as well as the gnats.

He never _had_ discovered why different objects would keep differently in the same spell, but he put off the distraction of the curiosity. For now, gnats would have to serve as the distraction while he continued his way towards the Duke's nephew.

"Come along, then," he said, looking back at the men he travelled with. All of them looked shocked… and frightened.

"Of course, _Ahli_," Surhato said. He would not meet Niko's eyes.


	4. Zakdin

A/N So, it is very unlikely that this is be finished for the end of the month. I am sure there were at least some of you paying attention to my pace and the length of time this is taking and who were shaking your heads at my foolishness. This means nothing for the story; it will continue to be written and updated at about this pace. I'm actually fairly happy with how it is going. Next chapter he finds what he is looking for, and wishes he didn't, and then finds someone he hadn't really considered and is very, very glad he did. You all know what I'm talking about, lol.

* * *

The city was quiet around them. When they had still been working to contain the plague, scarlet 'x's had been painted across doorways, but this practice had obviously been abandoned as the disease grew worse: many houses stood empty or with a shrouded body in the street without the sign on its door. Most of the shutters on the homes were drawn shut and several had their front rooms ransacked by looters. Walking down the narrow streets was like walking through the shell of the city; the lack of movement made all of them jumpy, as if they were trespassing on sacred ground… or walking through the dwelling of a ghost.

He directed their group through the outskirts of town, towards the district where the mages council and magistrate both had their buildings, hoping to find that the right people hadn't fled ahead of the smallpox. Surely, _someone_ had stayed to protect the people living here.

They passed through the gate separating the outer district, mostly poor houses and shanty structures called the Brink of Zakdin and into one of the main markets that passed as a boundary between the Brink and the eastern side of Zakdin proper and Niko could see some windows opened for air. In a couple doorways, suspicious but healthy faces watched as the group of men passed by, and Niko even saw a few market stalls open, selling food to women with masks covering their faces under their veils. There was evidence of burned or looted buildings as well as the scarlet 'x's, but there were no bodies littering the streets and a patrol of city guards – or _perwir_, as they were called locally – stopped the group of them.

"Your business?" the _perwir_ asked, looking over the machetes, his hand on his baton.

"I am Niklaren Goldeye. I have business in the city on request from His Grace, Duke Vedris of Emelan."

The _perwir_ patrol regarded him for a long moment. "If you don't mind, _buapak_," the man said, using the Hataran term for 'sir', "I think it would be best if you were taken to the office. There are magistrate and palace officials there that would be better suited…"

"That will work perfectly, thank you," Niko replied, anxious to get on with his task, now that he knew his route.

Niko paid Surhato and his cousins half again as much as he had promised and sent them home with spelled masks provided by the _perwir_ and followed the patrol along the streets of the market. More life emerged around them as they got deeper into the city and when they finally reached 'the office', which according to the _perwiri_ seemed to be a mix of healers', officials' and _perwiri_'s headquarters. They walked into a bustling courtyard, where men and women stood in line to receive masks from a mix of healers or Temple dedicates – the Dark Circle temple was an hour's ride south of the city – or be received by secretaries seated at a series of long tables. The yard was loud with combined conversations and the cries of children brought to be seen by the healers and Niko had to lean close to the _perwir_ in order to hear his words.

"I will get the _ahla_," the man said, using the female title for mage. "She will be able to get you who you need."

Niko nodded and watched the crowds as he waited alone for the patrolmen to return. There was a strict order to the lines and an efficiency he hadn't expected, especially given the few resources they had been left when the king left the city. Bringing everyone to one courtyard, the spelled masks and medicines and the order imposed by the _perwiri _would bring the city back into order soon enough. Niko wondered where they had been when the riots had begun, though, to let the city fall out of control so quickly.

Someone touched his elbow and he turned to find the _perwir_ officer and a surprisingly familiar face.

"Niklaren?"

"Kemala." She was dressed in the typical style of the well-to-do Zakdin women with bright silk robes, hers green, and a veil draped over her head and the two cones she wore pinned to her hair above each ear. Not only did she have a majestic, mature beauty, but she carried herself with such confidence that one was more likely bow and back away than scrutinized her face.

Niko had the grace of an old acquaintance to give him confidence, although considering how their three-year relationship had ended at his bequest, he should perhaps be running for cover with the _perweri_ trailing after him.

Kemala, however, smiled and bowed with her hands cupped in front of her face, claiming him as a friend. As he rose from his own bow, she smiled and thanked the _perwer_, dismissing him and his men. She led Niko to a small alcove between two buildings where the noise from the courtyard was thankfully diminished and turned to look him over.

"Niko," she said, shaking her head. "I never thought to see you in Zakdin again so soon, and especially not in the middle of all this, but I _am_ happy to see a familiar face."

"You seem to be in the middle of it all," Niko replied.

"Not my choice, I assure you. I may like the politics of the Mage's Council here in Zakdin, but running plague relief and the _perweri_ and the random city officials left from our Majesties epic retreat to his country estate has never been an ambition of mine."

"You're sure?" Niko joked, getting another smile.

"I may be ambitious, but even I have my limits, Niko."

Niko laughed, not at all sure about the truth of her comment. She had been one of the youngest members of the mage council, and one of the youngest leaders of it. Her ambition had brought her a lot of power in the city, and had brought many people holding the positions she had her eye on down from their own hard-won power. If there was one thing Kemala had in spades it was ambition. "How is the city, now? I have heard many rumours about how bad it was, and is."

"The plague has very nearly run its course, now," she said, her humour fading to show her exhaustion. "It is the filth and the mobs we must worry on, now. Curse King Soekarnu and his love for opulence. The summer's festivals are to blame for half the deaths and all the mobs," she changed the subject before he could ask after that. "But what are _you _doing here?" she asked.

Niko watched the business in the courtyard behind her as he explained about the Duke's request and Count Mattin and his family. Carts driven by dedicates came into the courtyard and supplies were unloaded by lines of servants while mages or other dedicates organized which buildings they were taken into. Most of the workers wore spelled masks – Niko could see the shimmer, and intended to get his own as soon as possible – and spelled dots on their foreheads.

There was a long moment of silence after he finished his account and he looked away from the courtyard's activity to read her expression.

"What do you know?" he asked, somber. Her expression was serious and sad and he read the bad news there.

"The palace is in shambles," she said quietly. "The king fled at the beginning and people were furious; Black Circle had been telling him for years that he needed to spend money on precautions. We're the centre of trading in the southern Pebbled Sea; we get ships and travellers from twenty countries and disease was only a matter of time. The Dedicates couldn't get into the city once it started and there was nothing here: no healing houses equipped to deal with plague, no medicines ready, no plan to collect and dispose of the bodies, no quarantine measures; _nothing_. There were riots and the mobs got into the palace."

"Did the nobles flee?"

"Niko…. No one fled. No one got out alive."


	5. Palace

A/N As I wrote through the middle of 'this' chapter, I realised that it was going to be about three times the length of the other chapters, and I am obsessive enough that this really bothered me, so I cut the chapter into two. The good news is that chapter 6 is already half written, and should be posted within a few days, though. I also promise that you get to meet Sandry in the next chapter. Thanks for beta'ing, Sarah!

* * *

"What will you do now?" Kemala asked.

"I have to find them, for sure," Niko said, adjusting to the news of the death the palace had faced. He felt a deep sadness for His Grace; the man had been truly fond of his nephew and Niko had hoped to reunite them. "I can bring the news to Duke Vedris, if they are dead, but I cannot tell him that I heard rumours and consequently stopped my search for his family."

"Is this the Niklaren I knew?" she asked, her tone half-joking. "The mage who travelled from land to land as to avoid bowing to any ruler?"

Niko smiled. "This is one ruler I fully respect."

"And that is, no doubt, important. It has nothing to do with you already past fifty with no family, no home, and very few friends."

Niko looked her over. "Ouch," he said finally.

"I don't mean to be cruel, Niklaren. The gods know I have as little. But, once upon a time, you wanted those things."

"Perhaps. But people grow up."

"Too true," she said softly. Niko looked away from her remembering, too, their parting years before. She had been devoted to her city and work and Hatar. He had not been willing to give up his wandering to stay if she couldn't promise him forever. "Just so you know, though," she continued, "you can always count me among your few friends."

"Does that mean you'll help me search the palace for Count Mattin?"

"Incorrigible," she said, laughing. "We will see who is inside and familiar with the palace. You stay out here and don't get in the way."

Niko made himself useful for an hour while she brought together the right people. When she emerged she had found a former palace guard turned fire dedicate, a palace servant who had fled the mobs, a locksmith, a healer, and two brothers who were willing to lend them labour and the use of their cart.

Kemala handed him a mask, glared at him fiercely until he submitted to the dot being put on his hand ("It truly does give me a headache if it is on my forehead, Kema. I am _not_ just being vain."), and then held out a hand for him to help her into the cart.

"What are you doing?" Niko asked, not taking the hand.

"I'm coming with you," she answered, rolling her eyes. "You think another mage might not be useful? Plus, I know you, and I'm not letting you wander the city unsupervised when it's this delicate."

"I do travel by myself, you know," Niko said, hiding a smile as he helped her up. She settled beside him gracefully. "And I take care of myself quite well."

Kema responded with a rather unladylike snort. "It's the city I'm concerned for."

Niko looked at her, unimpressed with her humour. He wasn't _that _bad. Her tilted, dark eyes crinkled above her mask with her smile. She had already turned away to answer questions from the healer as they pulled away and Niko settled himself facing forward, one hand gripping the wood above his head to keep himself from bouncing around.

* * *

Some of the city seemed to have nearly missed the plague entirely, though they couldn't go past more than one house or shop front without some sign of it; whether that was a scarlet 'x', a broken window, looted front room, or garbage in deserted streets. As they drew away from the magistrate's district toward the northern half of the city, where the Palace and the noble's estates were located, the signs of riots, looting and fire became more pronounced. Gates were hanging open or torn down, several buildings had fire damage – black fingers reaching up the sides of houses or doors – and one estate they passed had burned down to the shell of structure.

As they pulled the wagon up to the merchant gates of the palace, they could still see evidence of fire and mobs, and riding through the gates without being stopped by palace guards was odd enough to put them all on edge; it was unbearably strange to ride unhindered into the dead silence of the empty courtyard.

As they jumped down from the wagon bed into the dusty courtyard, however, Niko realized that it wasn't quite empty. From the entry way of the stables, two young boys popped their heads out into the courtyard and then ran over, barefoot and dusty-faced.

"Are you supposed to be guarding this gate?" Niko asked, smiling.

One of the boys laughed. The other shrugged and said, "We're supposed to tell you that if you're looters, there's nothin' left to take and we've got guards on the inside. If you're here to look for someone, the lady is in the livin' quarters with the rest of 'em."

"The Lady?" Niko asked.

"The housekeeper, she is. Most of the people that's left is there," the other boy answered.

Niko handed out two small coins to each of them and watched them run back to the stables where they had, no doubt, left a game of stones or pennies.

"Let's go in, then, and see what we can find."

His entourage followed behind him, jumpy in the echoes of their footsteps as they passed the sitting rooms that made up the corridors on the merchant's gate towards the residential corridors, where staff such as weavers or teachers would live. As they drew closer to these corridors, they could hear the babble of voices and movement and it grew in volume until they walked into a wide room that was lined with benches, where seemingly the remainder of the palace staff was staying. Cots were set up in the middle of the room and women were resting, sewing or chatting quietly.

Niko introduced himself to the woman nearest the door, and he and his party sat on one of the benches and waited while the woman finished her work and then hurried from the room to fetch the housekeeper.

When she arrived, Niko was greeted by a stout dark-skinned woman who, despite the circumstances, wore a wide smile.

"Good afternoon, _Ahli_, _Ahla,_" she said, wiping her hands on her apron as she bowed to him and Kema. "What can I do for you?"

"I am hoping you could help me track some people down," Niko said, quietly. "There was a noble family, staying here in the palace, a family whom I am attempting to find."

The housekeeper was shaking her head before he finished his sentence. "The nobles fled or died here, _Ahli,_" she said, her candor out of place with her open demeanor. Some of the nearby servants were watching the conversation, their eyes dark.

"Do you know what happened to Count Mattin?" Kema asked.

The housekeeper thought for a moment, her brow furrowed in thought. "There are so many people in and out, and then the chaos of the mobs and… I don't know, _Ahla. _I couldn't tell you if they made it out, or not."

"_Ahli_, that Count, he had a little girl, yes?" a young woman sitting on a nearby cot with a friend asked.

"A ten year old girl, yes," Niko said, beginning to hope again.

"I work in the weaving rooms, you see, and she would come down and watch. Her nurse took her away after only just a moment, but I remember the name was mentioned, and he was her _ayah_," she said, using the Hataran word for father. "But the Count and his lady; they were taken to the Amphitheatre last week."

"The Amphitheatre?"

"It's where they are taking the bodies," Kemala said, her voice subdued. "They are going to burn it down."


	6. Sandrilene fa Toren

A/N Thank you, Sarah, for being such a good beta to me. :) This chapter is slightly longer in order to get the entire scene out for you guys. I hope you like it!

* * *

Niko knew that he should write to His Grace, and leave Hatar. Something flickered at the edge of his thoughts, though, and it wouldn't leave him be. He had questioned the servant, and then the guards whose responsibility it had been to remove the bodies. They knew they had taken Count Mattin fer Toren and Countess Amiliane fa Landreg from the building. But no one, none of the guards and none of the servants, could remember what had happened to Sandriline and her nurse.

As they climbed the stairs to the noble's guestrooms, he listened to Kemala question the housekeeper. Now that the worst of the plague was over, those who had fled to the city or countryside were slowly returning. Nearly half of her staff had returned and a steady number of them trickled in every day, though there was the unspoken understanding between the two women that many had no doubt died, as well. There had also been royal officials sent back to the city, with news that His Majesty would return by the month's end. Niko tuned them out in order to concentrate on Sandriline and her nurse.

It was most likely that they had died from the mobs or smallpox in a different part of the palace, or that some careless person had loaded their bodies into carts and taken them to be burned without first figuring out who they were. Perhaps they had fled the palace; was it then likely they had survived in the city? No, it was not likely.

But Niko could not return to Duke Vedris with a 'not likely'.

The rooms in which they had been staying were cleaned in the days following the worst of the mobs, but the smell of sickness and death still drove Niko to take out his scented handkerchief to cover his nose. He noticed as he did so that none of his companions were driven to do the same; the people of Zakdin were well used to the stench by now.

"The girl slept where?" he asked the housekeeper. She showed them into an adjoining room. Niko looked away from the stuffed toy on the bed.

Adjusting his sight, Niko scanned the room again. The nurse had a cot on one side, and she had magic, as well. He could see its traces on some of her belongings, a fading protection spell on the girl's bed. That would make it easier to find them, but he needed more than that.

"Kemala–" He turned as he spoke, ready to ask her for her help, but cut off when he saw she was already holding out her hand to him. He smiled, and reached out to take it. They had worked great spells together before, and they fell into the rhythm without a word. As he did so, he reached out with his magic and twisted a bit of light from where it rested in her; there was no reluctance from the magic. She still trusted him implicitly. Circling the room physically together, Niko drew his belt knife and cut his hand, using the magic of his blood to strengthen the spell. They returned to the middle of the room and waited for the spell to strengthen and take shape. Neither of them dropped the hold they had on the other's hand; they both feared watching the last moments of this child they had never known.

Around them, the room changed subtly. There was a basket on the desk near the window. A black-skinned woman snorted and rolled over on the cot against the far wall. Niko could see the magic under her skin. In the bed, a small girl with blonde hair braided down the sides of her head sat up, her bright blue eyes staring straight through him.

She tilted her head as if she was listening to something.

"Pirisi?" she whispered, but her nurse didn't stir. After a moment, the girl slipped out of bed, walking barefoot over to the cot where the woman slept. She stood there for a moment, as if unsure whether to wake her nurse or not. Instead, she padded across the room and knocked on the door connecting the room to her parents. To Niko and Kemala, it looked as if she knocked on empty air; the door was open and the spell only covered the one room.

Niko could feel the magic draining from him, but Kemala was a strong mage – in her own right labeled a Great Mage – and the connection was steady. The vision hardly flickered when the girl disappeared as she opened the door and walked into her parent's room.

Niko and Kema were left with the sleeping nurse for a long few minutes before the girl returned. She closed the door and leaned against it, her hands over her mouth. She was crying.

"Pirisi," she whispered, but again the nurse didn't wake. "Pirisi, _please_."

The nurse woke with a start, and the girl jumped, as if there was a loud sound outside the spell, where the living could not hear it. Sandriline, crying in earnest, threw herself across the room.

"What was that sound?" the nurse asked.

"There's someone in the corridor," Sandriline said, her words muffled against her nurse's chest. "There's someone out there and Mama and Papa are dead!"

"What?" the nurse pushed her back to look at her charge's face.

"I heard something and I went into their rooms," the girl said, sobbing.

The Trader nurse, Pirisi, held the girl to her, trying to stifle the sound of her sobs as well as comfort her, murmuring softly in Trader-talk. Her eyes never left the door.

After a moment the girl pushed back, wiping her eyes. "What do we do n–?" Sandriline asked, but she was interrupted. Both the girl and woman jumped, looking towards the door.

"The mob is in the palace," Pirisi said. "Hurry; we have to hide."

Sandriline jumped off the bed, throwing on slippers as her nurse collected a lamp from the desk.

"Where?" Sandriline asked. "Where can we hide?"

"Hurry! We'll go to the storerooms. I can magic you inside. _Spasnot_!"

As the nurse grabbed the girl's arm and dragged her from the room, the girl reached back and grabbed the basket off of the desk. Then they were gone.

Niko released the spell and looked around at the others. Kemala's face was set, but he could see the sorrow there.

"Where are the storerooms?" he asked the housekeeper.

"On the first level of basements," she said. "But I don't have the keys. The real housekeeper fled her post without passing them along."

"That's fine, thank you. We have a locksmith," he said briskly, leading the way out into the hallway. _There's a good chance they didn't make it_, he told himself. _Just because they were trying to get there does not mean they're still safe. _

_But please, gods, let them be safe._

They walked down through the palace in silence, which was echoed back to them in the empty wings and corridors. Along the way, their party collected a lantern and it led the way as they descended underground. The wall lanterns had been extinguished and hadn't been relit.

On the lower levels the evidence of the mob's destruction had not been tidied and cleaned over by servants. There were doors knocked from their hinges and empty barrels and boxes were strewn in the narrow stone corridor so that Niko and the others had to scramble over them, in some places. Niko had adjusted his sight and walked ahead of the torch, all of the magic in the corridor guiding his way. He very rarely went so unprotected, hadn't more than a half dozen times since he had been sent to Lightsbridge and was taught to filter his vision. The headaches and twitches were not something he wished to deal with day-to-day; in fact, they made it nearly impossible to function at all.

Now, though, he followed the faintest traces of the Trader nurse's magic down into the storerooms. He was so focused on the traces of magic that he almost didn't notice what he was looking at when the trail ended. She was dark skinned and the robe she had thrown on in her charge's room was a deep brown that faded into the stone floors. The magic had faded from her skin and her eyes were open and Niko stood and stared into them, shocked.

"Gods _dammit_," he heard someone mutter behind him, bringing him out of his shock and back to the problem at hand. He looked around quickly; the girl wasn't there. There was still a chance.

"Hurry!" he said to the others. "Come with the torches."

"_Ahli_, this woman has been murdered," the healer said, her voice soft. She was kneeling beside the body. "Bruises on her head and body, broken bones. The mob got her. The child cannot possibly be alive."

"We should go back," the guard said. "We haven't cleared these storerooms yet. Someone may be down here, and it won't be a noble girl."

Niko had ignored them so he didn't snap at them, his heart pounding as he moved down the hall, his usual long strides hampered by the debris and his fear of finding another body. Only Kema and the housekeeper, who held a lantern, had followed him past the nurse's body, and when he finally saw the spark of magic on the door her shouted back to them.

"This way, dolts!" He nearly stumbled on a pile of broken wood, but Kema steadied him.

"There is no way she got away from a mob," the guard muttered, though his voice carried through the hallway to Niko's ears. Niko had stopped in front of a door just like the others.

"What is it?" the healer asked as they approached. "I don't see anything."

Preserve me from fools, Niko thought. "You won't see anything," he said. "It was spelled for concealment." He looked over the magic that had, no doubt, been the last act of the Trader nurse before she had died in the hallway. There was only one thing she would have woven protection and concealment over; the girl was inside this room.

He closed his eyes and found his magic, letting a strand of it wind around the search party while another floated through the spells. She was in there, he was sure of it; his magic could feel her life's essence. At the same time, he unraveled the concealment spell and the door was revealed.

"_Now_ do you see it?" he asked as the dead woman's magic faded away. He tried the door and nearly rolled his eyes; the nurse had been practical and had still locked the concealed door. "I need the locksmith."

"You've got him, Master Niko," the locksmith drew close and opened his tools. The lock was quick work and the door pushed open easily. The smell of excrement and stifled air was thick in the small room, and the locksmith and Niko both raised hands to their noses. "Urda bless me, what a stink!" the locksmith exclaimed.

"Move aside, man," Niko said and he stepped forward into the room. His magic revealed the room, slightly. He could see the blankets along the wall, and, vaguely, a small figure sitting in the middle of the room. Something flickered and almost caught his attention, but he ignored it for the moment. "My child?" he asked, making his voice as quiet and gentle as possible. "My name is Niklaren Goldeye. I've been looking for you." There was no answer and Niko fumbled for the lantern that the housekeeper still held, behind him.

In the moments it took to take the lantern from her hand and hold it in front of him, Niko's mind had come up with and dismissed each grisly end the girl had met in these rooms, alone and locked in. He raised the lantern after considering starvation and the mob and rats and sickness and injury and dehydration and had a split second of absolute relief. She sat on the floor of the cellar, her sewing basket and threads laid out neatly before her. She was staring at him, wide-eyed, looking exactly as she had in his vision of her in her bedchamber.

The relief lasted only as long as it took for the light to reach her eyes and then she threw her head forward into her hands and she screamed. _Stupid, unthinking, arrogant man_, Niko thought. She has no light; of _course _it would cause her pain.

The healer hurried forward into the room and he passed the lantern forward when the healer motioned. She had her hands cupped lightly over the girl's, keeping her delicate eyes covered. Niko was still cursing himself when he bent to straighten the basket that the healer had knocked over. Again, there was the flicker of elusive magic. The harder Niko tried to pin it down, the more it hid from him, blending into the shades of colour and patterns in the thread.

"_Ahli _Goldeye?" the housekeeper said, breaking his concentration. He looked up to find that he was the last in the room. They had carried the girl out into the hallway. He looked down at the threads – he had, without realizing it, picked one up and was twirling it in his fingers – but the magic was truly hidden now and he could find no trace of it.

"You will find her rooms upstairs?" he asked the housekeeper briskly as he gathered the girl's basket. He knew that she would not want to be too far away from it, if whatever magic she had produced was tied to the threads. Discussing Sandriline's accommodations, Niko and the housekeeper followed the others up, out of the tomb the storerooms had become.


	7. Recovery

A/N I apologize for the delay in this chapter. School and work has begun and I was completely and utterly swamped with real life (blech). I hope you enjoy this, and please let me know if you have any comments or note any mistakes. And, as always, thanks for reading!

* * *

Niko shut the door to his rooms firmly, walking only so far as the long low couch along the wall before he dropped off his feet. He sighed as he arranged the cushions behind his head and closed his eyes for the first time in ten hours. He had been up the entirety of the night, as King Soekarnu returned from his country estates and set himself back up in his palace. The King had been more interested in meeting with architects to arrange his new pet project – a marble amphitheatre to replace the one which was burning with the bodies of Count Mattin fer Toren and Countess Amiliane fa Landreg and the countless thousands who died with them – than in dealing with the destruction the smallpox had dealt his island kingdom. The royal family had been spared and all was well, according to Hatar's king and all Niko could think was _what a waste_.

So Niko had made his bows, had insured Sandry's comfort in the rooms the housekeeper had found for her and had spent the night in the city, working with Kema and her mages and the healers and the _perwiri _in an attempt to feel useful.

Even though he was exhausted, Niko forced himself up off the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he poured fresh water into a basin and splashed his face, trying to wake himself up. He visited Sandrilene in the mornings, and he would make the visit before he rested, no matter how exhausted he was.

The anger and frustration that had driven him out into the streets of Zakdin was replaced with a dull sadness when he thought of his young charge. It had been almost a week and the Lady Sandrilene had yet to say a word, refused to eat more than a few bites of her meal at a time and would not get up from her bed except to use the privy. The nine-year-old was understandably distraught, but Niko didn't know what to do to _help_ her, and that was almost as frustrating as watching a foolish king repeat costly mistakes.

Not that he was doing anything remarkable, of course. His magic was sought by kings, not commoners. It was nearly useless when the people actually _needed_, and him making the _perwiri_'s job easier tonight didn't help heal the city, nor ease a child's suffering. He had the fleeting desire for Lark's help, but she was at Winding Circle where she belonged, and he was left to muddle through it alone.

He wiped his face on a towel and put it back on its rack neatly. Thinking of Lark had brought back another thought he had been muddling over since finding Sandrilene in the storerooms. He had visited the noble girl every day since then and had not again seen a flicker of the magic he had seen on their first meeting. If he had been a little less experienced, he would have doubted that he had seen it at all, but he knew ambient magic. It would hide as long as Sandrilene hid, and she showed no signs of engaging with the world, not yet.

He never would find her magic, though, if she would not recovery from this tragedy.

He shook himself out of his morose mood briskly. She had been through a terrible few weeks, and one week was not a long recovery time, after all. He would find a way to help her recover, or the Duke would, and the magic would come in time. He straightened his clothes, ran a hand wearily across his face and left his rooms.

The palace was a place transformed since Niko's arrival the week before. Most of the staff had returned from the country before the King and his court had arrived, and they had been working to repair damage, prepare rooms and return the palace to working order. Once the King and his nobles were in court, palace life returned quickly to almost normal, if one could ignore the quieter halls… and the city entirely.

Niko's room was just a hallway away from Sandrilene's, and he was still musing as he opened the door and slipped inside. It was a moment before he realized that the girl was sitting up in bed, her head tilted to one side as she listened to something he couldn't hear. Her magic flickered and pulsed under her skin, weak with her emotional fragility, but beautiful all the same.

Suddenly, as he examined the distracted girl and her magic, he heard what it was that she was listening to. The looms were under both of their rooms, and Niko had grown used to the pulse of noise that defined their days. Sandrilene was listening to the sound and her magic pulsed with it, calling out to the needle and thread. Niko smiled; his earlier wish for Lark's presence had been more appropriate than he had thought.

Sandrilene noticed him as he was thinking, and she turned her bright blue eyes on him, giving him a shaky smile that nearly broke his heart.

"Hello, child. My name is Niko Goldeye. I was sent here to look for you by your Uncle Vedris."

"I remember." The girl smiled again and held out her hand. "I'm please to meet you, Master Goldeye. Thank you for saving my life."

Niko shook her tiny hand and smiled back at her. "You are very welcome, my dear."

* * *

Sandry – she had corrected her on the use of her full name very quickly, and took to calling him Niko with ease – wanted to leave Zakdin and Hatar that afternoon, but it was two months before they could arrange a ship to take them north. They stood together on one of the first merchant vessels that had reinstated trade with the plague-ridden island. Niko was look back at the island. Sandry was staring forward, towards the horizon.

Looking away from the dock where Kema wasn't waiting, Niko sighed. He looked down at the girl standing with him and smiled softly. She was tiny by nature, and was made even smaller by her ordeal and the way she picked at her meals, lately. The trip across Dupon in the winter rains could not have helped, but she had not complained and had even worked to raise _his_ spirits, when the mud and rain and delays had put in him a bad mood.

"We will be back with your Uncle, soon," Niko said.

Sandry just nodded, gripping the railing tight. She didn't want to be with her uncle; she wanted her parents and Pirisi. She was too kind-hearted to take it out on Niko and too mature to demand something she couldn't have, and so she smiled automatically and said that she was sure the trip across the sea would be better than the roads.

Niko laid a hand on her shoulder and turned to watch the horizon approach. The problem was that he knew it would always evade them.

* * *

Finally, Emelan appeared on that horizon. Niko directed their baggage down onto the crowded docks of Summersea harbor. Sandrilene followed behind him like a pale shadow and they climbed into a rented carriage that would take them to the Citadel.

They were expected and ushered in out of the winter's rains as soon as they arrived in the Citadel's courtyard. Sandry pulled the hood off her head and looked around, her pale face interested and trying to hide her nervousness. Niko watched her without letting her notice and followed behind the Duke's seneschal.

"My uncle is here?" she asked, looking up at a tapestry of a hunt.

"Your uncle is waiting on our arrival, but we may have to wait."

"Because we didn't know when we would be arriving. I'm sorry about making you travel in the winter, Niko."

Niko smiled. "Don't worry, Sandry. I am glad to be back in Emelan, myself."

"Will you be staying at Winding Circle?" Sandry asked, looking up at him.

Niko considered his answer. There was something at the back of his mind, an idea that had been forming in the months he had spent with Sandrilene, but he wasn't sure what to do about it, yet. "I don't know. Perhaps," he told the girl, who was waiting on an answer.

The Duke was working in the library, but stood immediately as they entered after the seneschal.

"Uncle," Sandry stepped forward to greet the man. Dipping into a curtsy, she didn't see the look that was exchanged between the Duke and Niko, over her head. Vedris's was one of startled sorrow, Niko's calm reassurance.

_She will be all right_, he thought. _She just needs time and some life around her._ He looked around the dark library, the rain falling heavily into the empty stone courtyard outside the windows. _This won't do at all._

Niko had been delighted when the Duke brought up the matter of her staying in the Citadel himself. Though Niko would have done it, he had no desire to insult the Duke's home, nor try to pry him away from his great-niece, if he was insistent on the girl remaining with him. Luckily, the conversation took the turn necessary for him to suggest Winding Circle, and Sandry jumped at the chance to see magic once more.

"It _is _the obvious solution," he said, ignoring the Duke's glance in order to stir his tea again. The Duke was an intelligent man; he would know there was something behind Niko's suggestion of the temple. Niko just hoped he wouldn't have to spell it out in front of the girl; she was intelligent as well, and would catch any references he tried to make about the magic she was not yet ready to accept.

Learning about ambient magic was hardly ever an easy transition. It would shape the remainder of the bearer's life, in some ways forge the entirety of the rest of their future. Learning about it in the wake of a tragedy like the one Sandry had experienced could taint her connection to her magic forever.

"She will be close by," he continued, "as safe behind those walls as she might be here. The two of you can visit whenever you like."

The Duke gave him a look that said, clearly, that he would have an explanation but, to Niko's relief, he turned to his great-niece without a word on the subject. "Sandrilene?"

Sandry smiled her heart-breaking smile. "I don't know, Uncle, but – surely it's worth a try?"

"Surely it is. All right, Niko. You will set it up?"

Niko put his tea and stood, nodding his acceptance.

"Good," the Duke said, standing as well. He embraced his niece. "You will return when you have her settled." He told Niko. It wasn't a question. Niko nodded again.

* * *

"Magic?" The Duke asked, his head in one hand.

"Thread magic, I believe. It's hidden deeper than most ambient magics – not uncommon, after what she has been through – but it is there and must be dealt with."

Niko had returned to the Citadel after getting Sandry settled into the noble girl's quarters in Winding Circle and a quick visit to the office of Moonstream. The Dedicate Superior had been surprised by his questions, but had agreed to help him. Niko forced himself back into the present, to pay attention to the man in front of him.

"My nephew was feckless, but how he managed to miss _this_, in his own daughter…."

"They didn't ignore toys moving through the air, or shapes in the fire," Niko said. "Sandry would have always been interested in stitching – would have even been uncommonly attracted to the art and its materials – but that's not what most people think when they hear 'magic'. Even most mages."

Duke Vedris nodded. "What now?"

"With time, she will settle into the routine of Winding Circle and her magic won't be such a shock. She will begin lessons and be licensed with the temple and her life will continue as she wishes it to. Don't worry, Your Grace. I'm sure nothing else will happen surrounding your niece that will cause you any stress at all."


	8. Task

A/N Long wait for this one, apologies. University is busy, etc. Plus I think I've published two stories since posting the last chapter, so I can prove I'm not completely out of it all. Have fun!

* * *

Niko rode back to Winding Circle in darkness. The guards at the gate admitted him without question. Moonstream was waiting up for him when he arrived at the residence of the Dedicate Superior.

"And what do you mean to do when you find them?" she asked, continuing the conversation they had begun in his quick visit after dropping Sandry off at Pearl Cup. "Do you mean to drag children out of house and home, have them follow you across the world?"

"I'll make sure they have a teacher, or take them to the nearest temple if they don't have someone to care for their studies."

"And you need the scrying tools because…"

"There are hundreds of children out there with ambient magic," Niko explained, leaning forward to prop his elbows on his knees. "I don't want to find them all. I want to find the children like Sandry, the ones who need a mage like me to get them the training they need."

"And what about the law, Niko?" Moonstream asked, serious. Niko knew what she was referring to; law stated that the mage who discovered magic was responsible for the new mage and had to arrange for them to be trained properly.

"I know the law," he said.

"If you cannot find them a teacher, you are responsible for them. You're willing to stay strapped to a child for the years it takes them to get their license?"

"Yes."

"What_ happened _to you in Hatar?"

Niko laughed mirthlessly. "It wasn't anything specific. It's just…" He stood up and walked across the dark room to stare out the window. It was dark outside, and he couldn't see the paths clearly, especially since the flickering candlelight in the room caused the windows to mirror his reflection back at him. "I may have been the only one on that island who could have found where her nurse hid her, who would then be able to identify her magic _and_ have her brought somewhere where it could be nurtured. And it was just _chance_. I was lucky as a child, to have academic magic and parents willing to send me to Lightsbridge. I think it's time I pass that luck on."

Moonstream was silent for a long moment. Then she stood and hugged him. Niko returned the embrace, surprised but pleased.

"Well, how can I say no to that?" his friend asked, smiling. "You'll let me know if you need help?"

"Of course," Niko said. "I think it will be simple, though. There are not many magics I will not be able to find a teacher for, and most children will have parents willing to get them educated, even pleased to discover their magics. If not, I will bring them to a temple to be educated there."

"Go with grace, Niklaren," Moonstream said. Niko smiled in return and walked out into the dark.

* * *

Niko had spent a lot of time in Capchen, over the years. It was a hub of merchants for a reason: ports lined the Capchen coast, giving access to the whole of the Pebbled Sea and landlocked countries paid thousands in gold to use the overland roads to the sea. Niko had travelled these roads for years into the eastern lands.

Niko looked up at the approaching coast and smiled slightly. Looking back down at the mirror in his hands, he closed his eyes briefly to focus on the child he had seen at Winding Circle. Opening his eyes again, his smile grew as he looked down on the child who played in a courtyard with a small dog nearly thirty miles away. The danger was still there, hovering over the edges of Niko's vision, but Niko was confident that he would make it in time.

There was no reason for him to doubt in his powers. He did not even consider that his understanding of the disaster's timing may be wrong.

Niko closed his eyes. He wasn't a believing man; even though most of his closest friends were in the temples, he kept himself apart from their prayers. Many in the university were loud non-believers who enjoyed the plays on logic that allowed them to discredit the faith of others', but that had never been his style. In his own heart, he didn't follow the gods, didn't pray to the gods, but allowed that others did and so never brought it up.

It was moments like this, though, in which he fervently wished he had someone to pray to.

Walking through the ruins of the town, all Niko could think was _how could he have been too late?_

His visions haunted him as he walked through the destruction a fire could cause in the small Capchen village, where the people could afford to build only in wood. This was where he had seen the child, the child with a bright smile and a head of blond curls and stone magic lying just under his skin. Niko had known that the child was in danger, but he had done his _calculations _and he had had it _all figured out_ and he had thought he could make it in time to make a difference, but he was as powerless as the relatives wandering the scorched remnants of their families' homes.

He was supposed to have made a difference with this child, he thought, looking down on the unrecognizable bodies in the house his magic knew to belong to a nine-year old stone mage who loved to play with his friends in the courtyard.

Niko had thought he could make a difference, but he was _too late_, and he wiped a tear off his face with a sooty fingertip before he turned and walked away from the destruction his visions had predicted and which he had been powerless to prevent.

* * *

The trip back through Capchen was long and tiring. When Niko finally reached Ninver, he looked out over the ocean in relief. He was tired of the visions he had opened himself up to, and he was tired of being trapped in coaches and boarded in by trees. The ocean was a welcome sight, reminding him of Summersea.

Stone Circle was another welcome sight, more for the anticipation of a warm bath and bed before the rest of his long journey back to Emelan than for any attachment to the temple itself. After his long-anticipated bath, he looked around the room and sighed, despondent. He had been so sure. Crawling into the too-short, uncomfortable bed, he closed his eyes and tried to sleep. It was a long time in coming.

He did not wait for the morning meal. Hoping to get to the port and pay his way aboard the first merchant ship that would take him, but he had to first make a visit to the Dedicate Superior.

* * *

A/N Thanks for reading! I hope I'll be back with the next chapter (especially since you all know what's to happen next).


	9. Trisana Chandler

A new chapter! Yay! *is enthusistic in an attempt to make everyone forget how long its been since the last chapter went up* Thanks to Sweet Sassy Sarah for looking this over.

Once again, the Ficship Competitions have begun. I'm encouraging everyone to head over to the forum and check out the nominated stories, as well as nominate some of your favourites. The competition can only run if people submit their favourite TP fics into the competition, and I know the authors will appreciate hearing about how much you liked their work!

forum (dot) fanfiction (dot) net/forum/The_Ficship_Competitions/54838/

* * *

It was obvious as soon as he entered the office that the Dedicate Superior of Stone Circle wanted something from him. Niko sat with his tea in front of him, listening as the brisk woman overrode his every attempt to remove himself from what he was beginning to think of as her clutches.

"Her name is Trisana Chandler. Her parents left her with us a few weeks ago, but it is not a good fit here; for us, or for the child. I would appreciate if you took her along with you to Winding Circle. She wouldn't be any trouble, I'm sure."

Niko took a sip of tea, trying to find a polite way to refuse. He had no time or energy to transport this girl, and the visions were still coming to him about children who may actually be in danger. "I'm afraid that I really cannot take her with me. I'm busy these days, you see."

He pursed his lips as she argued. "It would be along your way, Master Goldeye, you have said you are going to Summersea."

"Yes, it would be along the path I plan to take _now_," Niko said, looking down at his cup so she couldn't see the irritation on his face that he was keeping from his voice. Turning it a quarter turn on his saucer, he explained again, "but plans change, especially with what I'm doing now. I may end up nowhere near Winding Circle."

A door in an outer office opened and shut. The office door behind Niko's chair had been left ajar, and it opened even further as air flowed through the window behind the desk and through the office. _Perfect_, Niko thought. _The better for me to make my escape_. The image of one of the most powerful mages in the world running from the Dedicate Superior's office like a boy in trouble would have made him smile if he wasn't still being badgered.

"Regardless of what plans _may _change," Honoured Wrenswing said, tilting her head to meet his downturned gaze. "I know that you're already on your way to Winding Circle, and I need you to take this girl with you. Is that such a hard request to grant, Master Niko?"

_Yes, when I am in a mood like this one, and want nothing to do with shepherding children_, Niko thought, the images of the burnt villagers making him shake his head. Did news between temples actually travel quickly enough for Wrenswing to know of his work with young mages, or was she just desperate to rid herself of this child?

_Why?_ A voice in the back of Niko's mind asked, but he ignored the question. "Send her later in the spring, when the trade caravans leave for Emelan. I'm on a very special task these days. If I have to change my plans suddenly, this child will only get in my way."

"We can't keep her," Wrenswing replied. She sighed slightly. _Ah, now we're getting to it. _"Her parents swore that she was tested for magic and found to have none, but… I don't know if she's possessed by a spirit, or part elemental, or carrying a ghost, to be at the centre of such an uproar, and I don't care. Winding Circle is far better equipped to handle a case like hers. They have the learning, and dedicates who are more open-minded with regard to unique cases. They have the best mages south of your own university. They will know what to do with her."

_An uproar? What sort of… No. _Niko cut himself off. He didn't care. This child was found, and there were others out there who needed him to save their lives. He had no _time_ to be –

Suddenly, the roof above their heads was being pounded by something. There was a crash in the outer office, and both Niko and Wrenswing ducked their heads instinctively before getting up from their chairs to investigate. Calling power to hand, Niko pushed the office door open to survey the destruction.

At first, he assumed that the window had been broken by someone on the outside and that the plump redheaded girl kneeling on the floor beside her leather satchels was injured, but it took only a moment for his mind to take everything in. This was the girl Wrenswing was trying to get rid of, too much a coincidence that there was another girl of the age sitting in the office during their conversation. He had a moment of fierce annoyance that the Dedicate Superior had brought her, bags packed, without an agreement from Niko first, but he was interrupted as he noticed what was in the girl's hands.

She wasn't handling broken glass. She was holding _ice_. Niko looked from the hailstones to the window, and back to the girl.

The girl looked up and glared at him fiercely with pale grey eyes. Niko shifted the way he was looking, searching for the ghost or element in the girl. There was nothing, of course. _Ignorant, harmful idiots_, he thought, restraining himself from turning and shouting at the woman behind him. He couldn't see her magic, either, but he knew it would be there, somewhere –

"It's rude to stare." The girl's fury was evident in her voice, and Niko remembered the door swinging open. She had heard everything.

"You were tested for magic?" he asked, trying to control his anger at being so expertly manipulated by the Dedicate Superior. Very clever, to bring her into the office, and have her listen in, to guilt or shame Niko into agreeing to take her away.

"By the most expensive mage in Ninver, if you _must _know. And _he_ said I haven't a speck of it," the girl replied bitterly.

_Well, _he_ was an idiot._

Turning back, Niko addressed the Dedicate Superior, "Honoured Wrenswing, I've changed my mind. I will be very happy to escort Trisana to Winding Circle Temple in Emelan." Trying on a smile through his anger, he held out a hand to the girl. "I am pleased to meet you, young lady."

Ignoring his hand, she stood up and continued to glare at him. "You'll change your mind before long. Everyone does."

With that, she grabbed her belongings and stalked from the room, the door slamming behind her.

"Thank you, Master Niko. As you see, we have been completely out of our –"

"Let me make this very clear to you," Niko said, turning back to meet the Dedicate Superior's eyes. She swallowed visibly. "I am not taking this child out of your incompetent hands because you manipulated me into it. I am taking this child away because you have obviously done _enough _damage to her, and it is time someone stepped in. I will also, on my return to Winding Circle, be _discussing_ this incident with Honoured Moonstream and the Initiate Council representatives. Next time you push a young girl on a stranger because you fear her to be possessed by a spirit or ghost, you may wish to actually confirm she has anything of the kind!"

Niko grabbed his bag from the chair and walked from the room. The door slammed shut behind him. It was only when he was outside that he realized he had made an almost identical exit as his new charge.

It made him smile until he looked around and found that he had lost her, only five minutes into being responsible for her.

In addition, he would probably never be allowed in Stone Circle Temple again.

This was not shaping up to be his preferred sort of morning.


	10. Kindness

A/N Hey, look at me updating so soon. *pats self on back*. What? You mean most people don't take months in between updates? Dammit...

Another reminder to check out Ficship! There have been a lot of nominations made, so there are plenty of awesome stories to read while you decide on which of your favs to nominate!

forum . fanfiction . net/forum/The_Ficship_Competitions/54838/

* * *

Niko looked around quickly, trying to see where the girl had wandered off to. The pathways were mostly blocked from his view by the low buildings and walls that made up most of Stone Circle. With a sigh, he shifted through some of the magical filters he kept on his Sight until he had sharpened it enough to pick up the footsteps in the grass where she had walked as she left the offices of Dedicate Superior Wrenswing. After a quick scan of the buildings, he noticed drag marks on the dirt and followed them to the other side of the lawn separating the pathways. The leather satchels she had been carrying were sitting near a low stone wall, beside a small garden.

Walking briskly while he put took the magic off his vision, Niko approached the bags, and heard Trisana speaking before he saw her.

"It's off to another Temple, as if it will even be worth the cost of travel when they won't want me, either. Haunted or possessed or elemental, she said... I don't care. It's not like I have anything I'm leaving here, anyway. Except you. But you'll be all right."

Niko sighed at having to interrupt her goodbyes, but he knew there would be little chance at buying passage on the ships if they waited until afternoon. Rounding the corner, Niko opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short. Trisana wasn't talking to another child, like he had expected; she was petting a stray tabby cat_. _

_How lonely it must have been_, he thought, unbidden,_ that the only thing she goes to say goodbye to is a cat._

Stepping out of sight, Niko controlled his pity. She wouldn't appreciate it, and it may even make her resent him more. Walking back to the path, he called out her name and waited for her to come out from behind the greenery herself.

"Let me take those for you, Trisana," he said, gesturing to the bags she was carrying with difficulty. "It's a long walk to the harbour."

"I can do it myself! I am used to it."

* * *

It was as he expected when they reached the harbour at noon. The expansive docks were packed with people from all over the coastline and western countries, a mass of nationalities and languages packed into the small space. Niko turned back often to make sure the small redhead in his shadow was following behind him. Every time their eyes met, her customary scowl became a glare until he looked away again.

He hadn't had much experience with children. Most of Niko's closer acquaintances and few friends did not have children, and he never really stayed long enough in any one place to have someone comfortable with hoisting a child into his care. He taught, sometimes, but his theories and work were considered too advanced for teaching those under university levels. Sandrilene had been his first extended experience being responsible for a child, and as he looked over his shoulder and slowed his pace for the angry girl behind him, he thought about how he was now, technically, the discovering mage of a rare magical talent.

_This doesn't mean anything_, Niko thought, looking around at the ships and captains as he waited for Trisana to catch up. _If she integrates into the dormitory communities, there will be no reason for me to stay in Winding Circle for her training. There are other mages there with as many qualifications as I in weather magic, and it's not as if she is a seer or anything I specialize in. _The thought of staying in one place, even one he was as familiar and comfortable in as Summersea's temple, was unnerving.

Niko was distracted from his musings by a familiar face. Turning down one of the wide wooden docks off the main strip, Niko walked up to the captain of a small merchant vessel, one which he had sailed with before. The captain turned before Niko reached him, to talk to one of the men loading the crates onto the deck, and his face lit up as he watched the mage approach.

"Here is a sight, indeed," the captain said, smiling through his dark beard. "It's been, what? Two years since Hajra? Have ye managed to infuriate any other pirates since?"

Niko smiled ruefully at the memory. "I have managed to keep out of that same predicament so far," he admitted. "I'm looking for passage to Summersea, Theolin. Do you know of anyone headed that way?"

Theolin scratched his beard and looked over at his First Mate. "Well," he said, "I hadn't planned on that route, but we can make the stop without losing much time."

"I would not ask –"

"You don't think it's the least we owe ye? No worries, Master Niko. You'll have your berth and passage sure enough. We've been around the world in the past few years and the familiar face will be payment enough for any troubles."

"You will be paid, Theolin, for my passage as well as Trisana's." Niko looked around, his eyebrows dropping when he couldn't find Trisana behind him. "Or, you will. Once I find her."

"Another mage?" Theolin asked, searching the crowd with him. Niko rolled his eyes at the sailor's opinion on the flightiness of mages.

"No, a child I am transporting from Stone Circle to Summersea, if I can manage to keep her in my sight for the voyage... Ah. There she is."

"No worries, Master Niko," Theolin said smiling a sailor's smile, missing teeth. "Once we're on ship she won't be able to get lost. Unless she goes over, I suppose."

"Oh, perish the thought." He looked back at Theolin disapprovingly, ignoring the man's laughter. "Please, don't give the gods any ideas," Niko said. Considering how his day was going so far, he wouldn't put it past the girl.

He had spotted her at the edge of the dock, where it met the wooden boardwalk they had been walking along. He lost her a second time as he walked through the sailors and passengers that did their business along the docks, but when he came out on the other side, she was still standing in the same place, her toes on the edge of the dock, her grey eyes locked on the ships.

"Come along, Trisana," Niko said, gently, when she did not acknowledge his presence. "There is a ship to take us to Summersea and we have to get aboard."

Trisana swallowed without looking at him. "I've never left Capchen before," she said, quietly.

"Think of it as an adventure, perhaps," Niko said. "Winding Circle will have plenty of other children for you to get to know." Her scowl deepened. Niko thought about his brief acquaintance with her. "There are always cats aboard ship," he said. Her scowl lightened. She bent to pick up her bags, and Niko didn't offer to help, knowing that she would refuse him. As they walked back towards Theolin, Niko tried again to comfort Trisana. "Winding Circle is, truly, a welcoming place, you know. You will be able to stay there and have lessons and live with other girls your age... It could be very comfortable."

"Until they kick me out," Trisana said, staring straight ahead. "And then the next 'comfortable' place will be there, and the next, and the next."

"Well, perhaps it won't be that way this time."

Trisana didn't answer, but her silence spoke volumes. Niko didn't blame her; he wouldn't have believed himself, either.


	11. Shocks

A/N Anyone who has followed my multi-chapter stories knows that this happens occasionally, but I am sorry regardless. I will try to be better with my updates! Thanks for reading this over, Sarah.

* * *

Niko watched Trisana carefully their first day aboard ship, watching for more signs of the full extent of her magic. He knew that she could summon winds and hail from Wrenswing's stories and his own observances. Ambient magic through the movement of weather in the air was nearly as common as stone magic; there was no reason for him to have the lingering twinge inside his magic that meant he was missing something, but it was there all the same.

Perhaps it was just that he did not like to leave any questions unanswered – he never had – and he had yet to see her power. Her magic hid as well as the child herself hid her feelings; deep, and behind a prickly suit of armour. The girl watched the sea and ignored him as fully as possible as they sailed away from Capchen.

Regardless of her earlier expressed fears about leaving her country, Tris had taken to the ship quickly. Suddenly leaning forward, she was hanging over the edge of the wooden banister in such a way that Niko's stomach dropped just watching her. She looked at the water far below them, captivated.

Without thinking, he had taken a few long strides towards her before he stopped himself. She couldn't fall over the banister; her feet had not even left the ship's deck. Though the thought of hanging over space like she was made _him_ queasy, there was no reason for him to hover over her. He twitched forward again as she tipped so that one foot came off the tentative solidity of the deck and forced himself to turn his back on her, his stomach rolling. He would leave her to _that_ and go back to his observations later.

* * *

There was no time to socialize while the captain negotiated their way out of Ninver's harbour and into open waters. Since Trisana was still hanging over the ships railing, Niko settled into his cabin with a book to pass away an hour or so.

A knock on the door broke his concentration, and he was shocked to realize that the light outside his tiny window was fading into the deep indigo that announced coming evening. He had read the entire afternoon away. Slightly sheepish, he accepted Captain Theolin's dinner invitation and went to search out his student.

After knocking on her door to no answer, Niko climbed the steep, narrow steps onto the ship's deck. She wasn't easy to find and he already felt the beginnings of concern over whether or not she could _actually_ have fallen overboard before he found her tucked into a small space near the front of the ship, her legs hanging over the edge. Her sharp chin rested on the lowest wooden railing and she looked out over the water. Niko halted his approach to watch her for a moment; to see the child without the anger she carried with her was a relief in itself.

"Trisana," Niko called. She whipped around to face him.

"How did you sneak up on me?" she demanded.

Niko almost sighed. "Time for dinner," he said instead of answering her. He waited for her to get up and brush out her worn dress, but instead of walking with him, she stayed two paces ahead, her chin in the air.

Niko had to blink when they entered Theolin's cabin. The collection of _mimander's_ wind knots was a new addition to the dining area. Niko would definitely have to ask the captain where he had been in the last few years and what he had been doing – each knot would have cost a small fortune.

By the time he had entered the cabin and noticed the magic, Trisana had made her way to the knots. Watching her, he saw the flickers of magic in her for the first time, and watched as it reacted to the magic in the knots. _There you are_, Niko thought with a smile. It was always nice to have suspicions confirmed.

As the meal began, Tris passed him a basket of bread and set about picking at her food without looking at anyone around the table. Relieved that he knew her power, Niko began to plan for her future. A stable environment at a place like Winding Circle, where some loss of control – even when it came with wind and rain and the like – wouldn't be met with fear or loathing would do wonders for the child. There were people at the temple able to take care of her as a hurt girl as well as a mage student, which he had known he could not. Even if she had a few more talents with weather, the magics were not so uncommon that there wouldn't be someone more equipped to teach her than Niko was. Relief that she would be in the right hands filled him.

She looked up from her plate suddenly, those sharp grey eyes meeting his. "Why don't you _ask_ me anything?" she asked angrily. "If you've something on your mind, tell me!"

Niko controlled his smile. He had not heard _that_ complaint for a long time; usually people were demanding he _stop_ telling them what was on his mind! He distracted himself with his food and answered in a steady tone. "I can't. Any questions I have might limit how you think, and the way you act on your thoughts," he said. By claiming that he knew she had ambient magic with air, he could change the entire way she saw her power. _And you're still not _sure_, are you? _something whispered. _Weather magic has many facets. _"You see, Tris, just now your mind is unformed, without prejudices. If I present you with the wrong ideas, they might limit what's inside you."

Niko shared a smile with Theolin as she mulled over what he had said. He was impressed; he was used to confusing people.

"That makes no sense whatsoever," she said, tartly. "I'd like an answer that makes sense, if you please."

"Not yet," Niko said. He took a sip from his cup to hide a smile. "We have to get to know each other better."

"That's just his way, youngster," Theolin said, smiling as he passed a dish to Trisana. "Master Niko, he's as hard to understand sometimes as any oracle. When the fit's on him, he can talk you so confused you'll forget which bearing is north."

Niko knew what experience Theolin was thinking of; it was unlikely the captain would have taken Niko on as a passenger in the circumstances of their first meeting if Niko hadn't done some quick talking. "It's the university education," he said. "It teaches us to chase our tails for an hour before breakfast, just to get the exercise."

"University? Some of my cousins are at universities. Which one did you go to?"

Already having been the recipient of the sharp side of her temper when it came to the subject of her family, Niko answered cautiously. "Lightsbridge, in Karang."

"My cousin Aymery studies there. He's to be a mage. Maybe you know him? Aymery Chandler?" she didn't meet his eyes as she asked.

"I haven't been there in five years. Chances are that I don't." He reached across the table to pour juice. The topic had been opened by her; he might as well take advantage of the chance. He suspected he knew what her reaction was going to be, but perhaps if she brought it up, she would like to be like this cousin and study her magic? The conversation would have to happen at some point. "Would you like to be a mage yourself?"

Her temper flared up immediately. "No! I _hate_ mages! The confuse people!" Pushing out her chair, Trisana ran from the cabin.

Niko sighed. "Well, _that _went well."

"Does she have magic, then?" Theolin asked. "She's odd enough for it."

"You know, I think you may have had a bad experience with mages," Niko said, dodging the question. "They're not all as odd as me."

Theolin and his officers laughed and he excused himself to follow Trisana up onto deck. It was full dark, now. The torches had been extinguished in fear that the wind would spread the flames.

Niko looked around the deck. She hadn't gone far. Leaning back against the railing, she was looking up at the masts of the ship, yellow light flickering on her face so that Niko could see her glee when he heard her laugh. Processing that the light was out of place immediately, Niko turned in time to watch the ball of lightning flash from the mast of the ship into the reaching hands of his student. He _almost_ yelled out in shock, except that in the moment before the lightning reached her, Trisana's magic reached back.

Instead of the flicker he had seen when she was handling the _mimander's_ knots, Niko got a good look at her magic as it greeted the lightning joyfully. It wasn't just air, he saw, but mixed lightning and a dash of sea together with – the lightning was gone and her magic was hidden again before he could process what he had seen. The girl in front of him tried to pat down hair that was more frizz than curl, now. Except that it was the only sign that she had held _lightning_ moments before. Taking a comb out of his belt pouch, Niko walked over to her, holding it out like a peace offering.

"I suppose you were watching," Tris said, glaring at him. It was less irritating when she did so out of a cloud of frizzy red hair.

"You told me yourself that's what I always do. And in a sense you are right – I _am_ always watching – though not for the reasons that you appear to expect."

_Because I want to help you, because I think you have magic, because it appears to be rarer than I expected, and I have to learn all about it. Because watching is _my_ magic, and that's what I do_, Niko thought, but didn't say. There would be a time when she trusted enough to hear about her magic but he knew well, now, that this was not it.

She took his comb. "Do you see a monster, like everyone else does? Am I someone who ought to be locked away?"

He pushed down his emotions before he answered her. It would help no one if his anger at her family and the mage who had missed her magic and Stone Circle showed through now. Putting a hand on her shoulder, he said, "I see a girl who has been very badly treated. Anything that Winding Circle has to offer will be an improvement on what you've had so far."

She pushed the comb into his hands, knocking his arm off her shoulder. Her voice was choked as she made her excuses and stalked below-deck. Leaning against the railing, Niko closed his eyes. They weren't at Winding Circle yet. All she had was him.

Thinking of the way she asked if he saw a monster, Niko rubbed his hands over his face. He would make this _right_. Somehow.


	12. Connection

A/N I have been participating in Goldenlake's SMACKDOWN. It's a hilarious set of competitions where two pairings are set against each other, and the one to get the most drabbles written featuring their characters progresses to the next round. If you want to read some excellent fiction, definitely check it out. Lark/Rosethorn has just competed against Thayet/Buri, and Zahir/Jon against Evin/Dom. Also, the next round (Taybur/Aly against Mattes/Clary and Kalasin/Wyldon versus Maura/Kel) starts this week, so its the perfect time to get used to the forum and try your hand at the writing. Plus, the people there are really, really nice and welcoming [/plug]. Haha. fiefgoldenlake (dot) proboards (dot) com/index (dot) cgi

Anyway, _Beginnings_ news. The timeline between when each of them arrives in Summersea is pretty clear in the books. Sandry has been at Winding Circle for ten weeks, Tris for six, Daja for two and Briar for the grand total of three days before they all end up at Discipline within a day of each other. So, that means our story started sometime in early Hearth Moon (aka December) and we are now moving into Wolf Moon (aka January). We are almost finished Tris's part of the story, which puts us at approximately the half-way mark. I have recently realised that this means this will be a 24-ish chapter story covering 54 pages of Sandry's Book. Oops.

* * *

Niko shaved carefully on the morning they spotted Emelan's shores in the vast distance of the horizon, looking in the distorted reflection of his cabin's mirror. The light was awful from the tiny window, and lit the mirror at an angle that emphasized its warped surface and made shaving difficult, but the mirror – like everything in the ship's cabin – was nailed down firmly and could not be moved. Niko had considered a mage-light to ensure that he didn't miss a spot, before dismissing this as ridiculous. Mage-light would be the wrong shade of light completely for spotting unshaven hairs.

His thoughts kept flickering back to the tales Captain Theolin and his officers had shared over the past few days about their trip through the Strait of Dragons: how the rock outcroppings hung out over the water in jagged pieces, how the whole cliff-face reflected the red of sunrise or sunset in thousands of tiny crystals so that the whole thing seemed to be ablaze, how they had almost lost their lives on the shallow center of the Strait and only just managed to avoid becoming one of the latest victims.

_No doubt one of the reasons the Strait was believed to be home to the mythical beasts for so long_, Niko thought, watching the tiny Trader vessel fight the storm in his mirror. _So many ships disappeared that- _

The Trader vessel was one of the smaller ones – Niko forgot the name – and it bounced like a toy in the fierce winds as it was tossed on the swells of the spring storm. He could see people falling off the deck as the ship tilted dangerous to one side before another wave crashed into it, flooding the deck so completely that Niko lost sight of the ship for full seconds before the ship resurfaced. It was broken into pieces by this time, wood and canvas drifting in the sea along with the struggling people that once crewed it.

Waves tossed the debris of the ship as the storm began to ebb, its damage done. Niko caught a glimpse of a name painted on a section of board as it floated past. Hands gripped at debris in the swells and were stilled slowly as water covered gasping faces.

The vision was fading when he saw her. She held onto a wide wooden hatch cover and the cover held back, the metal song in her magic being soothed by the straps in the make-shift raft as it kept her safe in the storm.

Niko blinked and held himself still as the vision passed completely and he reoriented himself to the present and smooth seas. His head was already pounding, but he forced himself up. Theolin would know from which ports ships would be sailing that could expect to face storms like the one he had seen. Maybe he wouldn't be too late, this time.

* * *

His fingers tapped out an irregular rhythm (music had never been a strong suit) on the railing as he waited for Theolin's crew to ready the boat that would take them into Summersea's harbour. He had been told that the most likely source of a ship-killer storm, as Theolin called it, would be the winter storms off the coast of southern Sotat, and he was anxious to begin his journey.

Niko told himself that there was nothing he could do to make the crew move any faster; to judge from their frequent glances in his direction, his black-eyed supervision was probably impeding their progress more than quickening it. He practically heard the collective sigh of relief when he turned away and descended the steps to the guest cabins.

He had already carried his bags up to the men to stow on the boats. There was nothing left in his cabin aside from those things that had been provided and he had no desire to visit the empty space. Instead, he walked past his door and knocked on the door to Trisana's cabin.

"Who _is_ it?" she snapped through the door.

"Niko."

He waited a long minute before the door was pulled open sharply. She glared up at him. "I'm packing as quickly as I _can_."

"I am not here to hurry you," Niko said. "I simply came to see if you needed any help and to see how you are feeling about arriving at Winding Circle."

"Just _perfect_," she snapped, turning back to her bag. "_Another _place to get to know just in time for them to declare me an oddity. It's _just_ what I wanted." She was packing with ferocity as she spoke, but her clothes remained perfectly folded and organized as she fit them into her bag. "And I suppose you'll be there, watching me every time I turn around?" Tris asked in a scathing tone without turning around from her struggles with her case.

"I will be leaving Winding Circle almost immediately. I have special errands to run this spring, if I can manage to get to them in time," he said before he realized that she had not been complaining about his presence; she had been asking if he would be abandoning her. The forcefulness of Tris's packing became more pronounced. Niko sighed. _This was why he was only _finding_ them_, he thought. He didn't know how to talk to a ten year old girl, hadn't even been aware it was a talent in itself before meeting Trisana Chandler. He said the wrong thing too often, especially when one word could shatter days of tentatively built trust between them.

"Trisana," he said quietly. "Turn around." She shoved at the bag and fastened its straps before she complied. Leaning against the back wall of the cabin, her arms folded across her chest and a scowl on her face, she looked every inch the disobedient, uncaring child. Niko trusted that he knew her better than that, by now, to understand that her anger hid her vulnerability and her distance was because of fear rather than unpleasantness. He had seen enough signs of her pain not to underestimate it. He had also seen enough of her intelligence and her pride to not try and frame his words with half-truths or pity.

"I will come back to Winding Circle," he said, making his words as clear as possible so that she could not misinterpret them through the framework of abandonment and distrust that had made up the rest of her interactions with adults in the past. "It may not be until late spring – or even later if I am delayed with other errands – but I will come back and I will make sure that you are doing well. You will not be left to fend for yourself, I promise you."

Tris shrugged and uncrossed her arms only to push her spectacles further up her nose. "I don't care," she told him. Turning around again, she continued to pack.

"I will wait for you on the deck," he said quietly, and he left, shutting the door behind himself quietly.

In the corridor, he reminded himself again that sometime in the next few weeks, a trader vessel would sink and one girl would be left alone in the ocean if he did not reach Hajra in time to stop the ship from leaving safe harbour. Somehow, it didn't make him feel better, or make leaving seem less like abandonment.

_It's not like you won't leave again,_ a voice in his head whispered. _That's what you do, remember? Better to have her get used to her life without you from the start since you will be just another of those people who can't commit to being around. You know you can't._

The worst part was that Niko suspected it was all true. He hadn't stayed in one place longer than a year and a half since his days at Lightsbridge, more than twenty years in the past. In addition, that one year in Zakdin was an anomaly produced by his relationship with Kemala. The longest he could remember staying anywhere else was a matter of weeks or months, not years.

_It doesn't matter_, Niko thought. _I can offer her nothing those at Winding Circle cannot, and I don't _want_ to stay, regardless._

If there was a hint of uncertainty at that last thought, he put it down to the thought of the challenges that lay ahead and ignored it.

* * *

When he left her in the care of Dedicate Staghorn, the Water dedicate who ran the girls' dormitories, he watched the door long after she had left Moonstream's office. Tris didn't once look back as she was led away.

"Niko?"

He turned and smiled at Moonstream, who returned it with a slightly quizzical look. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was distracted."

"You mentioned important business," she said. She looked him over with brown eyes that were unerringly observant, but if she saw that he was not merely 'distracted', she decided not to ask. "I assume it's to do with other mage children?"

Niko nodded. "I've had another vision and must leave immediately." He ignored Moonstream's hesitancy over that, and they both pretended she hadn't almost asked if he should stay to rest; they both knew what his answer would be.

"Be careful," she said, instead.

Niko nodded. "Will you keep an eye on Trisana while I am away? She will be all right once she is settled in - I am sure of that - but until then, not everyone will understand."

Moonstream looked surprised. "I will make sure she's taken care of, Niklaren. I promise."

Feeling more secure in leaving her - if only slightly - Niko nodded and walked from the room.


	13. Timing

A/N I actually do have an excuse for my tardiness this time around, since moving, graduating from university, interviewing, starting a full-time job, and pulling my weight in my household is actually time-consuming. In addition, I work right through the time of day I used to use to get my writing done, so adjustments have to be made, and this story is definitely suffering for it. However, I am going to try and get some writing done every day, and that will hopefully mean another chapter will actually be written shortly! Thanks to everyone who subscribed or favourited this recently; that is very motivating!

(Reviews are too :DDD)

* * *

Niko nearly prayed as they came into sight of Hajra. He usually sailed very well, especially for someone who had first stepped on board a ship rather late in life, but the winter seas had tossed them through the waves until even Niko's strong stomach had rolled along with the deck.

The last night had been particularly bad with the storm battering their ship until every board had groaned in protest of the beating, and as they anchored themselves in the small bay protecting the harbour from the worst of the winds, Niko could see the relief on the face of every man on board. They spent the night waiting for the tides to turn celebrating in drink and dice. Niko sat in his cabin, bent over a mirror until his back screamed in protest, trying desperately to catch sight of the trader vessel he had come to intercept.

The next morning, he was put ashore just as the day really began, the sun crawling over the landscape of the city. The harbour was busy this early in the day, as the crews of the fishing vessels fought to get themselves onto the water before their competition.

Niko turned once his feet was on the solidity of the deck, and held out a hand towards the captain. Theolin grinned, grabbing hold of a rope to steady himself as he leaned over the small expanse of water separating him from the dock.

"Take care, Captain. Thank you, again."

Theolin grinned and leaned back onto his ship. "Don't worry yourself about us, Master Niko. Capchen spices sell as well here as in Sustree, and the winter storms give me an excuse to give the lads some time off. You'll be letting me know if you need any help on this?"

Niko agreed. He would have to ask, later, what Theolin thought Niko had done to deserve such favours. But, first, he had a trader vessel to save. He hurried off the dock to find the dock master's office. It had taken too long to reach Hajra as it was; he might be too late to stop them sailing already, and then where would they be?

His vision of the girl alone, in the middle of the debris on the ocean's waves flickered before his eyes.

He hadn't been to Hajra in years, and the office was different than the last time he had visited; a two-story building on a street removed from the seaside streets. The distance and hindering crowd frustrated him as he hurried through the docks. A group of sailors filed in front of him carrying heavy crates in arms with muscles bulging from the effort, and he had to detour around the cart they were loading to keep up his pace. A group of ragged street children circled him, pressing their hands too close to beg for coins, but he didn't stop and there was something in his expression that prevented them from following after his first curt refusal.

After leaving the docks, he had to push through a group of men waiting to see if they would be needed as fillers in a crew. Finally, he slipped inside the office building. The entrance hall was small, with several doors leading into corridors and a desk set against the wall opposite. Niko put his hands down on the desk, gaining the full and startled attention of the clerk there.

"I need your records of the ships in and out of the harbour in the past two days, I need immediate assistance in scanning these records for a particular name, and I need this done _now_. Get your master or mistress if you need permission, but do so quickly. It is a matter of life or death."

The boy was young and he stared up at Niko, his eyes wide.

"I did say 'now', did I not?" His tone must have conveyed his urgency because the boy stood, bowed, and ran from the room.

* * *

The small room the dock master used to store the ledgers was too small for the three of them who were currently poring over the documents from the past week, but neither the scribe nor the dock master himself allowed their concentration to be broken by more than quick nervous glances at the guest who drove them through their search.

Niko didn't notice their attention. Flipping through the pages as quickly as possible, he searched for any mention of the Third Ship Kisubo, feeling the seconds slipping out of his grasp, every minute that passed making their fate more and more likely.

When the dock master cleared his throat to get Niko's attention, the sudden force of his concentration made the other man's eyes widen and he faltered.

"Did you find them?" Niko asked.

"Ah... yes. Yes, Master Niklaren. I found them here, right here. They docked here last week, down at the fifth dock, off Whitewater. On a Moonsday, it was, only..."

"Only _what_?"

He looked up at Niko fearfully. "They was scheduled to leave this morning."

Later, Niko would think back to that morning and be unable to remember what followed in an order that made sense. He was sure he must have taken time to react to the dock master's information, but the next thing he would remember is a sailor on the street swearing at him as he knocked a crate out of his hands as he blundered by. Instead of answering, he had broken into a run. Niko would remember little of the run down the dock, wouldn't remember dodging the crowds that had gathered, only the sense of dread that closed in on him as a premonition flickered at the corner of his attention. It was like remembering one of those dreams, where no matter how fast you tried to move, you could not go fast enough to escape what was chasing you.

He would remember standing on the fifth dock off Whitewater Lane, though. Because standing on that dock, his view of the ocean was beautiful and unblocked by any ship that was supposed to be mooring there. The Third Ship Kisubo had left the night before, a voice he couldn't put a face to told him. They were already long gone.

The vision Niko had been trying to deny came to him, then, and he watched as the ship break apart in the storm he had endured as he sailed into Hajra's port.

The ship's fate had already been sealed before he had even made it to the docks.

Now there was a girl out there, alone, and he had to find her with nothing to go on but a rumoured destination and a vision of rolling waves.

The dread that settled onto him with the realisation that he would probably never find her would be one of his clearest memories of that day for a long, long time.


	14. Needle

A/N Well, that didn't take too long! I hope you enjoy!

But, first, this message from our advertisers (;D):

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* * *

It took Niko three days to find a ship willing to carry him out into the Pebbled Sea on what, more than once, he heard referred to as a hopeless mission, but he was persistent and eventually found someone more interested in the money he offered than the likelihood of success or the safety of their ship in the still-dangerous winter seas. He had woken every morning since learning of the Third Ship Kisubo's departure (and laid awake many nights, too) listening for that dreaded winter storm that would spell out the end of the girl he was sure still clung to life in the wreckage of her ship, but the storm never came. As each day of grace passed, he became increasingly frantic that he had to _find_ her, and soon.

He was fairly certain that Captain Moodie was a pirate, or at the very least engaged in some very unsavoury business practices, but as the third day of Niko's time in Hajra closed, Niko passed along a pouch of Emelan gold and ignored the flash of greed on the captain's face as he accepted it and assured Niko that they would leave the following morning.

The first mate, a man by the name of Ferrick, was the one to greet Niko on the dock.

"Master Goldeye..." Ferrick looked over at his ship quickly. "You know, no matter what happens the Captain is going to be keepin' the money you gave him an', well, even if they followed the normal shipping routes – which you can't be sure of with these Trader types – they could have been blown miles off'n their course."

Niko wiped a hand wearily across his forehead. He appreciated the warning, but he had run out of options and he would do what he needed to do, now. "I know the odds. I will try, anyway," he said as he walked up the plank and onto Captain Moodie's _Setting Sun_.

Niko thought hard as he stood on the deck, waiting for the tides to turn and the ship to undertake the journey from the harbour. There was very little chance that they would find the girl by chance, but there _had_ to be something he could do. He filtered through the spells he knew, trying to find one that he could modify to help in this situation.

If he had seen the girl _once_ he could have tracked her – at great expense to himself, of course, but it would have been possible. His visions of her now would be useless; there was no way to distinguish her spot of the ocean from the rest that surrounded her. She was one tiny needle in a huge haystack and her time was nearly up and there was _nothing_ he could do?

"Master Goldeye, we're underway."

Niko looked up from the ocean, startled. Ferrick stood nearby and the _Setting Sun _was, indeed, underway.

_I'm never going to find her,_ he thought. _But at least I will have tried_.

"I need a mirror," he told the first mate curtly. As one of the crew ran to fetch him one, he turned back to the ocean and prepared himself for the magical workings that were ahead of him.

* * *

Pushing his doubts aside was the hardest part of the first step of his search. He concentrated on the now-familiar image of the Third Ship Kisubo, trying to track its course as it left the fifth dock and sailed out of the harbour bay.

A vision of the ship as it left the harbour, still in sight of the towers on the shoreline gave him enough of a reference for him to estimate its direction and when they left the harbour, he was able to confirm with the helmsman that it had taken the usual shipping route. He put away the mirror as they sailed out into open water; it would do little good, now, to see the ship without the chance of comparing its direction with a point on land.

And, if he was right, this magic was going to take all of his concentration.

His head began to pound lightly in anticipation.

_Stop that, _he thought. _I have yet to _do_ anything._

He loosened the tight hold his hands had on the railing in front of him and looked out at the ocean. The sky was deep, almost-black cloud cover, and the rolling waves reflected that, turning the sea around them an iron grey. Combined, his surroundings seemed to close around Niko and the _Setting Sun_ like a cage.

Falling into his meditative breathing, Niko closed his eyes, concentrating on the magic he was forming. He had two bottles of oil in a pouch at his waist. Using the rose oil, he drew a circular symbol in the middle of his forehead, and dabbed it on each eyelid. Putting that back in the pouch without opening his eyes, he opened the other jar. He caught the scent of lemon extract as the breeze blew over the jar as he drew a second symbol over the rose oil on his forehead. This connected to a line over his eyebrows and connected to other runes for concentration on each temple.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes into a blaze of magic.

His headache – waiting on the edges of his concentration – erupted into full force. Blinking as his eyes watered, Niko continued the meditative breathing and pushed the pain down into a hidden space in his brain. Able to concentrate, Niko focused on orienting himself to the sudden shift in his vision.

Instead of trying to rely on scrying, which would show him the girl without any point of reference, Niko had enhanced his far-sight spell in order to pick up any movement in the distance. Far-sight was a limited talent and, outside of academia, was mostly useless. If there were any obstacles in the direct line of sight, the view would be as completely blocked as if the mage was blindfolded, making it impossible to use unless one was standing in a tower or on walls such as those at Winding Circle, or found himself looking for something in the distance when he was at sea.

Combined with the concentrating essence in the lemon oil and the runes he had used with that, the sight was useless for detail or fine-tuning, but Niko didn't need anything other than a direction of travel towards the ruins of a storm-savaged ship. All he needed was speed and the ability to guide the ship in the correct direction, and –

"Master Ferrick," Niko said, pointing without looking away from the distance blotch of colour on an otherwise consistent blue-grey of the ocean. He felt the ship adjust to his direction and he watched as the distant shape grew nearer.

He adjusted the direction of the course only a few times as the daylight dimmed and they sailed closer to what Niko fervently hoped was the Third Ship Kisubo. Finally, terrified that they would overrun the wreckage if they continued sailing into the night, Niko wiped the symbols from his face and waited for his sight to adjust back to normal while the first mate Ferrick called men's name for the anchor watch. Niko heard the sails being adjusted and the splash of the anchor falling into the sea.

"I've had the men bring her to. We have the bearing now, Master Goldeye," Ferrick said as he met the mage on deck. "We'll be able to continue on this way tomorrow at first light. Then we'll see if your ship is out there."

"It_ is_ out there," Niko said, his voice quiet with exhaustion. "I am just not sure whether the most precious of its cargo is lost yet."

Ferrick lowered his voice. "If you're lookin' to recover something valuable from the wreckage, you'll want to not let the crew or captain know of that, Master Goldeye."

Niko smiled slightly. "Don't worry about that. It is not that sort of treasure." Making his way unsteadily to the cramped cabin he had been allowed for this voyage, Niko laid on the cot and tried to rest while the night passed slowly.

He must have managed some small portions of sleep, because the _Setting Sun _felt like it was soon awake and underway. Niko dragged himself back on the deck and got himself out of the way as sailors hurried to arrange the sails and ropes in the complex patterns that controlled the ship. Happy that he was expected to do nothing, Niko found a place by the front of the ship and added his eyes to those watching for wreckage ahead. Long before he spotted the signs of the remains of the ship, the man perched on the mast had called a warning and the ship came alive once more as men hurried to prepare a longboat for a small crew to approach.

Niko's first good look at the last of the Third Ship Kisubo took place as the longboat was lowered into the water with its final splash. There was little left to view; most of the ship had dispersed on the currents or sunk into the ocean's depths. From this distance, there was no way to distinguish between the shapes to see whether or not there was a girl survivor among the floating debris. There was no movement, though, no matter how long Niko stared.

Finally, one of the sailors interrupted his guard and he followed him to the edge of the ship. Taking a deep, steadying breath, Niko lowered himself over the side of the deck and made his way, ungracefully, down the rope ladder and into the longboat. With some help from the crew, he was settled into a seat at the front, away from the oars that would propel them in their search of the wreckage.

Niko turned himself forward, blinking as sea spray stung his eyes as they made their painfully slow progress towards the Trader ship. Finally, they rose to the top of a wave and the wreckage was laid out before them. Niko scanned the floating wood and canvas desperately. There was no one. He could see no one.

"Ahoy!" he called out as their ship dipped into the trough of the swell and the wreckage was lost from sight. Nothing answered him but the steady, unforgiving crash of the waves.


	15. Daja Kisubo

"Ahoy!" he called out again, standing despite his precarious balance, to try and see the debris they had been sailing toward. He felt someone – Ferrik, probably – grab at his shirt to steady him. "Are you alive?"

"Yes!" The voice was weak and childish, and he sank into his seat at the bow in relief. "Take us towards her, Ferrik," he said, grinning. The men began to row them closer to the wreckage, and the lone survivor of it. Finally, they came alongside the hatch door where she was perched. Her magic had not dimmed since his vision, and the metal in the hatch and the box she held under one arm glowed faintly in his sight.

_A metal mage out in the middle of the ocean_, he thought, almost giddily. _Frostpine would find that all manner of unnatural._

She looked up at him, and he could see her exhaustion and grief; his relief-inspired amusement dropped away.

"Hello there," he said, keeping his tone even and calm. "My name is Niko – Niklaren Goldeye. I've been looking for you. I'm sorry not to find you sooner." His throat closed and he looked away from her, around at the destruction. Much of the ship had dispersed, and the bodies had sunk away, but he had already seen them in his vision and knew that she, too, was aware of their loss.

_Concentrate. _As soon as the sailors had him close enough, he reached over and grabbed hold of her arms, pulling her over the edge of the longboat. Sailors reached over to help her over his seat and into a secure place in the center of the boat. Ferrik patted Niko's shoulder with strength that knocked him forward but was meant to be comforting, while another sailor passed forward a water flask for her to drink from.

"Wait!" she called out, suddenly, making Niko jump. "My- my box! There! Please save it!"

They looked to Niko, who considered only a moment before nodding. He would have done it, regardless, to give her comfort, but something about that flickering magic made him feel it held more importance. This time, Ferrik leaned over the edge and pulled it, dripping, onto the boat. Passing it forward, it was settled in beside the girl. She sank back in relief and exhaustion and began to drink.

"Let us get back to the ship," Niko said, quietly. Ferrik's orders sounded muted as exhaustion settled into his bones and his headache pushed past the mental walls he had set to contain it. He blinked and concentrated on not passing out. They would have to carry the girl up onto the ship; better that they not have to try to get _him _up that ridiculously precarious ladder as well.

"What is your name, child?" he asked, leaning forward to hear her answer.

Her eyes were closing involuntarily and she yawned as she answered. "Daja Kisubo."

"I'm very glad to meet you, Daja," he said, but she was already asleep.

* * *

When Niko woke the next day, he remembered very little of the return to the Mermaid's Tears – the pirate vessel he had hired to find the Third Ship Kisubo. He was fairly certain he had not fallen into unconsciousness until back in his own cabin; a relief for his dignity, at least.

His headache had retreated with sleep, leaving a dull ache in his temples and an occasional sharp pain behind his eyes that he could effectively ignore. Splashing water over his face and hands, he towelled dry with the suspiciously mottled bolt of cloth he had been left with his water basin and, taking a deep breath, went to find his newest charge.

There were three guest cabins on the ship. Niko's being closest to the stairs to deck, he didn't have to guess to know which way to turn to begin his search. A young cabin boy jumped up from his seat on a crate when he approached.

"First Mate asked me to sit 'ere, sir. In case she woke up, and she didn' yet. But you can go in, seein' as you're not crew."

Niko thanked the young guard with due gravity and opened the door to Daja's room.

She _was_ awake. She had pulled the survival-box up on her bed and sat with it open, wiping down all of its contents with a piece of cloth and replacing them gently. She looked up at Niko when he came in, but immediately went back to her work.

"My apologies," he said immediately, in Tradertalk. "I thought you were asleep."

She didn't answer. He pulled up a chair beside her, watching as she polished another bottle and replace it gently. She was surprisingly healthy, Niko realised. He had been expecting far worse, after her ordeal, but then her clothes had covered most of her body, protecting it from the sun. Only her face and neck looked a little burnt, and that was minor thanks to her dark skin. Recognizing the box she had rescued as one of the Trader ship's _suraku_ informed Niko of why she was not as dehydrated or malnourished as he had been expecting.

He stood and ordered the cabin boy to find them a pitcher of water and a glass, regardless. He knew little of healing, but could just imagine Rosethorn's scolding if he didn't make sure this girl drank as much as possible. Looking back to where she was tending the remnants of her family's ship, he amended his orders to the cabin boy.

Waiting by the door, he watched her. Even with his vast experience with children (he thought this sarcastically), he did not know how to begin to speak through this self-contained quiet.

"When we get to Hajra," he said, "I want you to go to a healer." She made a face. "I know you'd prefer a Tsaw'ha mender, and we will get one if we can. In the meantime I will pick you up appropriate clothing, for your loss." He did not avoid the subject. Trader customs were different; death _was_ and avoiding mention of those lost only made their spirits disappear faster. She looked up, but not directly at him, and returned to her work right away.

The boy brought back a cup and pitcher and Niko brought them back to the bedside. Waiting until she had finished replacing the last bottle, he poured her a cup and waited until she drank it all. The other items Niko had ordered, extra cloths and wood and metal polish were passed over as well and then the cabin boy retreated from the room, with one last curious look at the girl who had been pulled from the ocean. Niko set them all on the small table next to the girl's bedside. She bit her lip when she saw them.

Daja met his eyes for the first time. "Thank you," she said softly. He knew well that she would tend to her altar herself; it was her loss, but he could make the work easier for her. "What do we do next?" she asked as he refilled her cup. She drank it in slow sips as he prepared the polishing cloths.

"We will go together to Nidra Island. I won't leave you until you have been settled properly."

For the first time since seeing hearing her voice, Niko felt the stirrings of unease and a lessening in the relief that had washed over him, out in the waves. He knew Trader custom. By their beliefs, she was the worst of bad luck, the lone survivor of a terrible shipwreck. They couldn't possibly... she was just a child. She needed them more than ever.

Daja, who knew just as well what she faced nodded and drained her cup without saying a word before setting it aside and picking up the first of the cloths. They sat in silence together, both sets of dark eyes following the motion of the cloth as Daja polished the dark wood and metal of her _suraku_.


End file.
